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purplephloxpress · 1 year

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总有一天 a place to hide (can't find one near) - yiqie

That’s just the thing, isn’t it? Wei Ying feels nothing. He doesn’t feel anything, and this emptiness should scare him. He knows he should be scared. He wants to be scared. He isn’t. Fear itself is never scary; fear is just a response. It means that your body wants you alive. It’s the absence of terror that scares him.

I had SO MUCH FUN with this bind! This one had a lot of firsts for me, and is one that I really poured my heart into due to its particular emotional impact on me (tl;dr - I was a piano major in college, burned out, this fic helped me fall in love with music again). It's an Untamed WangXian Pianists AU (TW for anyone interested that it deals with attempted suicide and life following that) and I tried to tie that into the design details literally everywhere I could think of. Black and white cover paper, music note scene breaks, and my absolute favorite part to create: sheet music title pages. The particular song used for that is a recurring motif in the fic and one that means a lot to me personally, and I knew I wanted to include it somehow. Unfortunately I couldn't find an existing image of the sheet music that was high enough quality to use how I wanted, so I used a sheet music program to input it myself!

This book was my first time doing any sort of edge decoration, and I had fun figuring out how to splatter paint with a toothbrush (Spouse: is that supposed to be blood? Me: no but also... kind of?) and it was also my first time doing endbands! (Shout out to the friends who walked me through it over voice chat one evening, and then rolled their eyes when I announced that I'd torn them out and done them over again. Twice.) I went with red and black for both of those parts to match the main characters canonical color scheme, and also because I liked the dramatic pop of color against the black and white cover.

Spine titling was done once again with a foil quill, and I decided to paint the Chinese title of the fic on the cover. I couldn't find a paintbrush that let me get as fine tipped and detailed as I wanted so I may or may not have used a toothpick to paint it on.

I prevailed over: somehow deleted half of my page numbers and had to reprint the WHOLE THING! Forgot to measure the boards as part of my spine width and had to do surgery with 2mm strips of paper! (Thankfully had allowed plenty of hinge because I didn't realize until I'd finished ALL of the titling and I would have cried if I couldn't salvage it) Truly this is my child and I adore how it turned out. Is it perfect? No. Are there things I would change? Sure. But I learned and I did and I'm so goddamn proud of it!

(See below the cut if you want specific details on the binding)

What pieces went into making it:

Fandom: The Untamed

Pairing: Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji

Bookcloth: black Brillianta

Cover paper: black and silver marbled lokta

Endpapers: red cardstock

Titling: foil quill, acrylic paint, acrylic paint pen

Endbands: leather cording for the core, DMC embroidery thread for the bands

Body font: Adobe Garamond Pro

Title fonts: Long Cang and Canva Holiday

Text message font: Nirmala UI

Scene breaks created in Canva

Title page sheet music created using MuseScore

#purplephloxpress #ficbinding #wangxian #the untamed #pianists au #yiqie #fanbinding #renegade bindery #adventures in bookbinding

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sillyfairygarden · 5 months

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jazzy lounge club singer cleo for @hermitzine !! closeup under da cut >>>

PUKES i’m so delighted that my silly jazz au got to be apart of an incredible collection of works for this project waaaah

in all honesty, the idea for this au started when i applied to this zine months before i even knew i was accepted. so in a way, it was sort of manifested :^) this was the most self indulgent, opulent thing i could create for this zine, cleo in a beautiful red dress with lots of jewelry, glitz and glam, and of course a little sparkley eye makeup /swoons

#hermitzine #thellos art corner #jazz au #zombiecleo fanart #hermitcraft fanart #mcyt fanart #hermitcraft #mcyt #jazz au lovers rejoice!#the first draft had joe hills as the pianist but i . cannot draw joe hills. orz

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flowerwrites06 · 9 months

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l'amour de ma vie — myg

L'AMOUR DE MA VIE | Love of my Life | Requested by anon.

Plot: Insecurities pile up in Yoongi's marriage after months of distance and neglect. Pairing: Pianist!Yoongi x Ballet Teacher!OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Music & Ballet | Marriage on the Rocks Type: One-shot Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.6k+ Warnings: marital insecurities, unintentional neglect, jealousy, mentions of divorce, mild mentions of injury from ballet, explicit sexual content (rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting). Author’s Note: new one-shot, friends! i really hope you enjoy this one, I loved writing it! be sure to let me know what you think!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Send your ideas in by August 1st before it closes!

Yoongi was a serious man. Kiku knew this well in the years she knew him. Their marriage didn’t flourish like fresh romances with many kisses and open affection but quiet trust helped their relationship stand strong.

When the doors closed, Yoongi often made up for his silence with soft kisses on her skin, calloused finger pads running down her neck and sneaking in between her core until she soaked the sheets.

However, things changed as the concerts began to pile up. When they were touring together as equal performers, Yoongi was active in ensuring that she heard compliments whispered in her ear. That he stared her way when she was on stage and she would sneak a look back whenever able.

Now Kiku wasn’t an equal performer and Yoongi’s attention on her was. . .low. Though Kiku understood why. It was concert season. Of course. That’s the only reason.

Of course, Yoongi was active and his face brightened like stars when he performed but lost the light in his eyes when he looked at her. It was exhaustion. It must’ve been. He would tell her if something was wrong.

Tonight was the same as the previous nights for. . .how long had it been? Two months, maybe three. Yoongi thrilled the audience with his performance, fingers dancing over the ivory keys like they were an extension of his own digits. Like the music was the air he breathed, exuding out of him. Kiku found it deliciously mesmerizing.

The audience roared with applause as the performance ended.

Yoongi bowed to the crowd, roses thrown his way before he walked backstage. Sweat slick on his forehead, pearling at the jawline. His grin disappeared immediately when he reached here. Kiku felt the weight of the lost smile but she leaned in and kissed his cheek anyway to congratulate him.

Yoongi barely leaned into it and rushed to change his clothes.

It was just exhaustion. Just exhaustion. Nothing more.

***

Today turned for the better. At least Kiku hoped as Yoongi received his first free day away from practices or concerts so he can enjoy the Italian sights for a while. The day was beautiful indeed, sun blazing gold amongst the sandstone buildings and flowers beds at the cafes burst in vibrant colour.

Kiku even wore her favourite silk corset dress with a thin cardigan over top for the spring breeze. Her black waves reached down to the small of her back and her enthusiasm thrumming to excitement. She felt as if she was waiting for a first date.

Yoongi finally entered the living room, wearing a white shirt and trousers.

“Did you want to go out to a café today?” Kiku asked, her voice kept soft and sweet. “It’s a beautiful day.”

Yoongi barely looked her way. “I have a small meeting with the producer. He wants some changes to the later performances,” he said. His tone was rushed and serious. As always. Everytime he began thinking of work, that was his tone.

Kiku knew this and she told herself this the moment her heart started squeezing unbearably. “When will you be back? Maybe we can go later.”

“I’m not sure. You can go by yourself and enjoy,” Yoongi said before rushing out without waiting for a response.

Breathing through the aches in her chest, Kiku did pick herself up and enjoy Italy. It was concert season. It was concert season. Everything will be back to normal once they’re home. It’ll be fine.

***

France was the next destination. This time, Kiku was invited to a ballet studio in Paris to teach some classes and have a studio room of her own to practice if she needed. It kept her distracted. Italy emptied Kiku and even the plane ride to France was Yoongi discussing things with his producer, Minho while she sat alone in her corner.

The dance studio brought her full of life again, the golden vines consuming the marble building like a living organism. The varnished wood floors, silk shoes and flowing dresses that returned Kiku to past days. To. . .happier days, she thought with a pain inside her.

Kiku and Yoongi fell in love during a different France tour years ago. Kiku was a prima ballerina in her early twenties. Lovely and enchanting, they called her. Yoongi played all her songs for her, watching her every move as if catering to her own movements and not the choreography itself. There was an intimacy behind that cohesion, that connection that not even six years of marriage managed to create. Perhaps that was a bad thought to have. To romanticise the first year of love as opposed to the commitment they were in now.

She should be happier now. She was happy. Happy, yes.

Was Yoongi happy? Was he happy that he watched her perform? Was it okay that Kiku was no longer that prima ballerina? She was no longer quite as lovely or enchanting.

Kiku danced every now and then but after an injury, her doctor encouraged her not to do performances like she used to. Otherwise it may lead to permanent damage. Yoongi supported her through her strained muscles, helping her through her exercises and reassuring her. But perhaps Yoongi didn’t plan on needing to take care of her. Perhaps the thought of her never being that ballerina again dawned on him and he grew distant.

No, it was silly. Silly to think it so. They were happy. Happy. Happy.

***

Kiku made her way to the stadium where Yoongi had his practice and performance later in the night. She brought fresh food from a nearby café with a small spring in her step. Sweet notes of the piano echoed in her ears. Even the tonality and energy of the notes made her know that it was Yoongi. It gave her both this nostalgia and fresh nuance of something new, like a first kiss or a sneaky touch on the back of her hand.

Kiku smiled at the people backstage, placing the food on the table.

“This’ll be good for the newer performances,” she heard Minho say as they looked out to the stage.

Kiku followed their gaze and saw the new addition. The reason why Minho wanted to have so many meetings. A young ballerina was on the stage, dancing freely to the notes played by Yoongi.

Her grin was bright and energetic, understanding completely the importance of her performance carried out. Lovely and enchanting.

Kiku knew it was normal for pianists to do this. To have different performances showcase creativity and enthusiasm. But the sight of it felt like stones crushing her slowly. It was normal for this to happen, she told herself. Yet Kiku felt it deep in her heart, deep in her gut, this unbearable pain when the reality sank in.

Kiku didn’t belong to his world anymore.

She was a wife who tried to be part of his world but not in his world.

Perhaps Yoongi knew this and stayed silent to protect her feelings. He never liked confrontation. Or it just didn’t matter and he would get rid of her after the tour.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Minho asked. “Back to his roots?”

Kiku attempted a smile as she always did. Attempting a smile. Maintaining an energy to make sure everyone else felt good. To make sure Yoongi felt good, without burden.

“I’m feeling a bit unwell,” Kiku said. “I’ll be going home.”

“Don’t you want to wait until he finishes?” Minho asked, confused. Kiku never left once she got to Yoongi’s practice, not even when she was sick.

How silly she was. Constantly leering at the edges of a place she didn’t belong to anymore. Trying to squeeze into a place in Yoongi’s heart that was probably getting smaller and smaller. He had no time for her. Kiku couldn’t force him.

Oh, the thought of it burned her eyes. Her stomach felt like it was singed.

Frustration pricked at her. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.” She lied. He’ll be fine without me.

***

Yoongi adored having more performances linked to his piano pieces. While he enjoyed having his solo acts, it was nice to be in the background for a moment and allow for his music to be interconnected with dance or a story. The exhaustion and boredom that begun to linger in the past performances rejuvenated back into a sense of excitement. At least the final shows of the tour were something of energy and new light.

The ballerina bowed elegantly after the practice performance. Yoongi returned backstage with his heart pumping through his ribcages at asking Kiku whether she liked the new addition. She had grown a bit quiet towards the end of the Italy leg. Perhaps seeing some of her own art showcased on stage would bring her spirits up.

Except Kiku wasn’t there.

“Did Kiku not come yet?” Yoongi asked before gulping a bottle of water.

Minho, his producer, shrugged. “She said she felt unwell. But you have food.” He gestured to the apricot pastry, sandwich and coffee on the table.

Yoongi was used to having Kiku sit there with him as he ate or eat with him. Having the chair next to him empty felt cold and unwelcoming. She must’ve been really sick. “I can go early to check on her.”

Minho hummed. “I mean you can but it’d be safe to do another practice run.”

Yoongi stared at the empty chair for a while. Maybe she was asleep and he would only be disturbing. Besides, he had a few shows left. Might as well get it all out of the way.

***

Night already fell into a deep dark abyss by the time Yoongi was done with practice. He wanted to come back home in the afternoon but he got distracted at work. It was a habit of his, long rotting inside him yet hard to rip away. Moonlight painted their hotel room in a pale silver before Yoongi turned the light on for a splash of warm apricot light against the crème couches and opulent lamps.

“Kiku?” Yoongi asked.

There was no response for longer than Yoongi was comfortable.

But then Kiku walked through the bedroom door, wearing a soft cotton lace nightdress with her hair, a little messy from a nap. Her eyes were soft and glossed, her cheeks sweet and a little puffed. Kiku didn’t move from her spot, looking at him carefully.

A small part of Yoongi’s body had gotten prepared for her to walk to him and kiss him on the cheek. A more selfish part of him expected her to wait for him because she always did, even when she was sniffling from sickness. “You weren’t feeling well?”

Kiku stared at him, as if confused by Yoongi’s concern like it was foreign to her. Yoongi hadn’t seen that look on her face and something about it hurt her. “I’m feeling better,” she said softly.

“Is it your legs?” Yoongi asked, a little more careful this time.

Kiku still looked at him like that. Like Yoongi hadn’t spoken to her of such intimacy in a long time.

Well. . .he didn’t, did he? When was the last time Yoongi asked her if she ate well? Or slept well? Or even how she was? Yoongi tried his best to remember. He must’ve had asked her how she was this morning. Or kissed her. But he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember the last time he had any conversation with her.

“I’m alright, Yoongi,” Kiku said. “Get some rest, it’s okay.”

Yoongi wanted to argue that he could give her a massage or help her get better but Kiku already walked back into the room. Without a smile or a kiss. The air grew cold again and Yoongi worried that his habits may have touched a nerve too delicate for his own good.

***

“An extension?” Yoongi had a single finger tapping softly on a D note, not pressing it for sound but thinking as Minho announced that he wanted to have a few more weeks of shows. “The tour has already gone on for months. We all need rest.”

Minho hummed, waving his hand. “You can rest later. This’ll be good for your career.”

It would be. Especially with ballet studios from France wishing to administer their own ballerinas into the mix, it would be so good for his career. But a shadow loomed over him. Kiku’s distance wasn’t going unnoticed by Yoongi. She hadn’t been to any of his practices since that day and it had been a week already.

Kiku wasn’t sick anymore. Something else was wrong.

“Kiku and I’s anniversary is in two weeks. I don’t want to be busy in a concert during that time, we’ve never worked on anniversaries.” Yoongi shook his head. He remembered how she worked around her training schedules to ensure that their anniversary was always free. Something was already wrong and for Yoongi to break a tradition along with it was stupid.

“Well, Kiku can come along with you.” Minho smiled. “She can even train the ballerinas herself, she’s a qualified teacher. Spend your anniversary in Paris.”

Yoongi could try to get a free day during the tour again. He had a free day in Italy, which he used to have a work meeting. Maybe this time, they could explore France. “Alright, I’ll talk to her.”

***

Kiku was at a ballet studio, Yoongi was told. Not by Kiku but the hotel receptionist who was asked to send a message if Yoongi tried to look for her. Kiku always texted him directly if she wanted to communicate something but they’ve resorted to this now, he supposed. Yoongi made his way to the ballet studio, the smell of wood and perfume wafting in the air as he walked up the stairs to the top level practice area.

Kiku was there, wearing a flowy white skirt, transparent, crème with a black top. Her hair was open as she always kept it when practicing dances on her own. Even after the injury, her every move was precise, the pointe of her toes like an ethereal being and her form like a swan.

Yoongi remembered watching her all day. He had become so used to her presence, close to him like his own extension. After all this distance, he was once again the humble pianist watching a prima ballerina conjuring magic with her dance.

Dark, pretty eyes flickered to him then and Kiku stopped, her expression neutral again.

Yoongi tried to push down the squeeze in his chest. He wanted her to smile at him again, to rush to him and kiss him. But she stood there, distant and unmoving. “I—Minho wants to extend the tour.” He wanted to make a more personal introduction but the room turned cold so quickly, he couldn’t muster the right tender words.

Kiku stared at him, a twitch in her eye. So she was uncomfortable. “It’s alright. It’s good for your career.”

Now she was keeping her feelings hidden from him.

Hurt turned to a flash of frustration. “You weren’t at the practice.”

“I figured you didn’t need me hovering over you all the time,” Kiku said plainly.

“You’re my wife, I want you there.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been doing a good job at showing it.”

Ah. His bad habit. Still rotting inside him and now it was rotting at the seams of his marriage. Kiku’s neutral expression flashed with truth now, making Yoongi wish she was hiding it again. It wasn’t anger. Not really. It was deep hurt and helplessness. “Kiku.” His voice was meek. It made him feel stupider that he realized it immediately yet too late.

The hurt solidified behind Kiku’s expression.

“I wasn’t doing it on purpose, I was—”

“Busy, I know. Believe me, it was the only word I’ve hinged on to. . .gain strength.” Kiku let out a long sigh, soft and weary and slow.

Yoongi knew it was to hide her voice shaking as her eyes turned glossier. He hated it. Hated that he was the reason. Hated that he didn’t even know it because he never felt he had to. Kiku always had herself put together, always a sturdy foundation. So much so that Yoongi grew too lax. Too careless. And now it was coming back to haunt him in the flesh.

“You can continue the tour without me,” Kiku said.

“No.”

“It’s stupid to cancel the tour on my accord. You’ve come this far.” She shook her head.

“I am not leaving you.” Yoongi’s voice raised a little, desperate and pleading. “Kiku. I wanted you to be with me, spend our anniversary in France.”

“I don’t want to be in France.” Kiku’s throat bobbed up and down. “It reminds me too much of what I’m not anymore. Of what I can’t be.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked.

“I’m not the wonderful ballerina I used to be,” Kiku whispered. “People look straight through me and it never bothered me but now. . .you do too.”

Yoongi’s heart dropped. “Kiku, I never. . .I don’t care if you’re a ballerina or not, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“It doesn’t matter to you because you can always put a new one on stage.” Her voice cracked then, unable to hold herself together. “I can’t find some other person who will think I’m worth keeping.”

“I’m keeping you,” Yoongi argued. “I know I’ve been wrong to distance myself from you but that will never change the fact that you’re mine. And I’m yours. All of it, always.”

Kiku stayed silent, finally letting out a shaky sigh. It was that slightest glimpse of vulnerability that gave Yoongi hope. The wall wasn’t cement, it was a curtain still, giving him to room to walk closer so he could catch the faint waft of a tea and jasmine in her aura.

Yoongi held onto her fingers gently at first. He waited for her to slowly curl and clasp back, giving him another chance to walk even closer. His hand reached up her arm, cupping her cheeks and kissed her. A fire roared inside him, feeling her warm kiss back again. It had been too long. Feeling the soft strands of her hair through his fingers, the taste of her and her warmth pressed against him soared through him with sweetness.

Yoongi leaned Kiku against the barre, lifting her enough to rest against her back against the mirror. Yoongi kissed her neck, suckled on the softest part of her skin and bit into it. The slight ache on her skin awakened her nerves.

Kiku ran her fingers through his hair, tugged at the scalp to ground her to reality. That this wasn’t a dream but her own beloved husband, tasting her skin after so long. Her hips desperately rubbed against the bulge forming on his pants, the weight of her body already pressing down against the barre but she didn’t care.

Kiku snuck her hand in between them, rubbing his hardened bulge before unbuttoning his pants. Her fingers wrapped gently around his thick member, twitching against the soft skin of her palm. Her index traced up the angry vein, teasing the slick tip until he let out a moan against her collarbone.

Yoongi lifted to look at her. Kiku smiled and sucked his arousal off her index, keeping her dark lust-blown eyes fixed on him. Yoongi gripped onto her jaw, pushing her cheeks in until her lips protruded. He kissed her again, harder this time as he reached under her skirt and ripped her thin panties, the delicate cloth soaked in her own arousal.

Kiku laughed, drunk with lust as she grabbed onto Yoongis length and aimed it at her sodden cunt. Time showed in the way Kiku felt so snug. She let out a small shaky whimper as if Yoongi entered her for the first time. Kiku gripped onto the barre as Yoongi gently pushed through the tightness, letting her adjust to him again.

Kiku grazed her nails against the fabric of his shirt, yanking off the buttons so her fingertips could trace his skin. She let out a pleased sigh as his entire length sunk inside her, his body flush against hers until they were one.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispered.

Kiku let out a small whimper, forehead pressed against his as tears burned in her eyes. Both an overwhelming flash of love and pleasure soared through her deliciously. “I love you too.”

As the declaration left her sweet lips, Yoongi began to thrust into her. Slow at first, ensuring that she felt the tip of him at her cervix and every ridge inside her remembered him sliding out. She dripped with arousal, making the wooden barre glisten. Yoongis hips moved faster, pistoning in a pattern that maddened Kiku.

Yoongi pulled at the sleeves of her top, sneaking it down until her nipples popped from their covering. The cold air of the ballet studio made them erect. Yoongi leaned and wrapped his lips around one of them, lapping his tongue on the tip until he felt her clench around his cock.

Kiku threw her head back against the mirror before kissing his temple. Yoongi was patient in his attention, moving to her right nipple and giving it the same love. Such affection. His pace quickened as her pleasure began to swell to its limit.

Yoongi gripped onto the back of her thighs, locking her against the wall and pounding into her. Without mercy and with the most delicious desperation that forced a string of moans out of Kiku. Never had she felt so free to let out all the noises she wanted.

His thrusts got harsher, her wet cunt slammed over and over again until even the barre began to squeak under the pressure. Then he paused suddenly with a pant. Kiku let out a choked scream as Yoongi buried himself deep, shaping himself inside her and carrying her off the barre. Kiku spewed another whimper, muffled against his shirt.

Yoongi let out an excited breath as he placed her shaking feet on the floor. Turned Kiku around and had her face her flushed, tear-stained and pleased expression in the mirror. Her hair had turned dishevelled, the front strand matted to her forehead. Yoongi gently placed his fingers over her neck, nose buried in her hair, the lovely scent of jasmine and her sweet arousal suffusing the air. “You’re mine. My love.” He whispered.

Kiku smiled, swaying her hips before he started pushing himself in again. This time much easier, wet and welcoming. “I’m yours.” She caressed his sweat slick cheek. “Yours. All yours.”

Yoongi hummed, thrusting into her again. Deep and hard. Each thrust felt like a shake through her whole body, making the memory of him linger until she dreamt about it days later. “Am I yours?”

Kiku let out a soft chuckle. “You’re mine.” Another rough thrust had her nearly sobbing as it hit her sensitive spot. He still knew where it was.

Yoongi panted, using her noise to thrust in that same position. Kiku bent over against the barre with a whimper, her knees nearly buckling but still wanting more. “Does it feel good, baby?”

Kiku stammered a response as he fucked into her again, her lower belly felt full, ready to roll over the edge. Yoongi pistoned into her ensuring that the same spot touched again and again. “Feels good, baby, don’t stop.” She cried out.

Yoongi groaned, leaning in and sneaking one of his hands between her legs. His calloused fingers rubbed her clit as his own orgasm rushed to the edge. “I’m gonna cum.”

Kiku let out a trembling breath, gripping on his forearm as her lower belly. Begging to release. “Cum inside me.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek. Then the coil sprung. Spurts of sweet nectar had her whimpering, a light choked scream as a light gush splashed on the floor.

Yoongi panted as his orgasm burst into madness, thick and warm as it filled Kiku’s womb. Messy and beautiful. Their thighs slick with the most wonderful arousal as he held his love in his hands, most of her weight rested on his grip as she trembled through her high. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Kiku chuckled, the tingles of ecstasy flooding through her like a blind bliss. “I missed you too,” she whispered, touching his cheek again. “Don’t be away from me.”

“Never. Never again.” And Yoongi held to that promise just as he held her. He would never let this go again.

***

Minho never hid his disappointments when it came to him. Except Yoongi wasn’t quite the same as all his other rookie musicians, who would fall back in line once they saw the displeased purse of his lips. “It would’ve been good for your career. Your wife should understand that much, she’s done the same with her career.’

“Kiku made her career without sacrificing time in our marriage,” Yoongi said. “I should be held to that same standard.”

Minho hummed, raising his hands in defense. “I mean if that’s what you want.”

“You did want to go to Greece for another tour so if that’s in the cards.” Yoongi already expected the sudden brightness in Minho’s face. He didn’t like disappointment but he did like something to do. Perhaps preparing for a future tour in Greece would allow for Yoongi to spend more time with Kiku.

Minho clapped his hands. “Greece and a few more dates in Japan as well. Kiku’s home country, that could make her happy.” He waved his hands, smiling to himself as if he wasn’t just ready to have a tantrum a few minutes ago. “Enjoy your anniversary.”

Yoongi smiled, feeling a wave of relief that he was appeased. No more tour dates anytime soon. Which meant he could go home when the sun was high in the sky and he had comfort waiting for him at home.

***

They took a plane back to their apartment in Korea the next day. The familiar dark wood, ferns and home-grown lettuce were well-tended to by their friends while they were gone. Kiku recognized the smell was different after a few months. Sadness pricked at her but it was bittersweet, not all bad. She was home again.

Kiku and Yoongi made dinner together to revive the smell of home. Warm rice soup, spinach salad, fresh steamed rice and spiced mapo tofu to fill their bellies.

“I’m thinking of opening a ballet studio,” Kiku said.

Yoongi’s brows raised mid-chew. “You want to teach?”

Kiku nodded with a smile. “I still want to dance and the doctor said just not to do performances. So teaching.”

“If you want a part-time piano player, I’m free.” Yoongi grinned.

“Without an interview?” Kiku frowned playfully. “My ballet studio would have more standards than that.”

“I mean I am sleeping with the owner, you could pull a few strings.” Yoongi shrugged.

Kiku’s lips parted in slight shock. “That’s highly inappropriate. You would have to show me your talents.”

As they put away the dishes for their lunch, Yoongi walked over to the grand piano perched on the space between the kitchen and living room. He reached out to his work bag and pulled out a few pieces of paper with hand-written music notes.

Yoongi played with the ease of breathing as he always did, except this music was the softest it had ever sounded. Delicate and sweet. Even the way his fingers moved on the keys were floating like a swan. A ballerina.

Kiku padded over to the piano, stood behind him and leaned her chin against his shoulder. She peered over the title and saw L’amour de me Vie. Love of my Life. Her heart burst with joy as she rested against the crook of his neck. “Who’s it about?”

Yoongi laughed, playing softer. “Depends, do I get the job?”

Kiku smiled and kissed his cheek. “Fine. You’re hired.”

“Then it’s you,” Yoongi said, smirking. It will always be you.

masterlist

#yoongi #suga #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #marriage au #pianist au #yoongi fic #yoongi x oc

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lobotomy-jpeg · 1 year

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And I know I'm not a bad man. I know because I see me in you.

[id: Digital sketch of Izzy and Roach from OFMD. This is a modern AU. Izzy is sitting on a piano stool and Roach is sitting between his legs. Izzy rests his face on Roach's shoulders, a little smile on his face and his hands are on the keyboard, playing. Roach rests his hand on Izzy's knee. The sheet music for Kiss of Fire is visible on the piano stand. /end id]

Please read Lounge Singer AU here. It has my entire heart.

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bad-lobcorp-aus · 11 months

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AU where the Mili music is diegetic. If someone Distorts or manifests EGO near you, expect to be subjected to a beautifully sung and orchestrated description of their mental state, regardless of whether you want to be hearing this, and in fact regardless of whether they want you to be hearing this.

The real reason the Pianist was so powerful is that he provided his own musical accompaniment to the song. Imagine how much destruction he could have caused if he'd actually been good at piano.

#library of ruina #limbus company #the pianist lor #bad lobcorp aus #submitter: cryptologicalmystic

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only10th · 1 month

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Been thinking about Pianist!wwx and violinist!lwj playing together at a mall. Wei Wuxian likes to go to the mall to play for people, he loves taking requests, or plays some well known musical pieces and sometimes he’ll play one of this original compositions.

One day he’s playing “Rain” by Ed Carlsen, which is one of his favorite pieces to play when he's out and about. He’s just so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t notice a man standing next to him, pulling out his violin and just joining him on the piece with so much ease. His eyes grow wide but soon that sparkle he has shines brighter at how easy and harmonic both of them sound. He laughs, he smiles, he shows off while the mysterious violinist stays focused and composed, yet the passion drips into every note they play.

Their duet attracts a lot of attention, multiple people taking videos and pictures (plus wwx is recording the whole thing himself since he sometimes uploads the videos of himself playing online) this is the first time anyone has joined him in a duet. After they’re done, they look at each other breathless, a bright smile on wwx’s face while there’s the smallest curve on the mysterious violinist’s lip. Before Wei Wuxian could even ask for his name, he had already put away his violin and walked away. Wei Wuxian groans, annoyed he didn’t even get to know the handsome violinist’s name. Maybe they’ll meet up again.

He hopes they do. He had never felt such a connection with another musician before.

A few weeks later, Wei Wuxian is playing at a restaurant. This time he’s getting paid to do so, which is great! He can’t just let opportunities like that pass by!

So, he’s playing something classical to fit the mood. It is rather fancy, your food, of the size of a quarter, costing you an arm and a leg type of place. Wei Wuxian will never understand why people want to spend their money like that, but it’s because of places like this that he has a place to work. Well, if playing here during the weekends is even considered work. He enjoys it nonetheless.

Once he’s done with a piece there’s scattered claps through the restaurant. This won’t do, the people need to be entertained! Wei Wuxian sets his phone against the piano, already recording. There’s a smirk on his face, cause he already has the perfect piece in mind. Fingers hovered giddily over the ivory keys, an exhale leaving his lips and soon began to play.

The melody startles some of the clients, which makes Wei Wuxian chuckle under his breath. The tune is fun, like a little dance around the calm waters of the lotus lakes of his old home. It’s one of his original compositions, but he’s played it a few times before, so he wouldn’t be surprised if people knew it. Wei Wuxian lets himself get lost in the song, silver eyes fluttering close. A sense of pride fills his chest, noticing how the restaurant had become quiet. He could sense all eyes on him, which sent a chill up his spine. What he didn’t expect was to hear a violin joining his now gentle melody.

His eyes snap open with a gasp, and right next to him he sees the same violinist from a few weeks back. His mouth hangs slightly agape, and for a moment he loses his focus which causes him to play a few sour notes. Yet, he smiles brightly, impressed that, despite this not being composed as a duet, the mysterious violinist was even able to join and keep up. Wei Wuxian can’t help but huff a laugh, and just as he does he is met with a piercing golden gaze. His breath stutters, he had never seen such beautiful eyes, especially ones that looked at him with such intensity.

Wei Wuxian has to stop playing, knowing there’s a solo coming up. He’d usually play it through, but he wanted to see if this violinist had also come up with his own solo, and he delivers as expected. He lets his eyes close and he plays his piece, swaying with the music he produces with much passion and Wei Wuxian can’t help but be completely mesmerized by such beauty. Not just him, but the crowd around him! At some point he has to join back, continue their little dance as both their melodies become one.

A round of applause erupts once they’re done, both of them looking at each other as if nothing else mattered in the world other than this moment. For the first time since their first encounter, Wei Wuxian could take a better look at the violinist. He was only a few inches taller, dark, ebony hair like the keys of a piano cascaded over his shoulder, a white ribbon braided and intertwined in it. A wide smile paints on Wei Wuxian’s face as he stand from the small bench to offer a small bow.

“We finally meet again, mysterious violinist.” Wei Wuxian says, quirking an eyebrow upward, “You know my song.” It was more a statement than a question.

The man nods in response, “Wei Wuxian is very talented.” Oh, his voice. The low timber sends a shiver down his spine. Wait, how does he know his name?

“How do you…?” Wei Wuxian starts, narrowing his eyes if trying to recall someone or something. “You follow my page. You’ve seen my videos.” He says with realization, which is followed by a laugh.

The man nods again before offering a courtly bow. He doesn’t say anything else as he turns to leave. No, not this time. Wei Wuxian manages to grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “Hey, hey, don’t leave like that! Will you at least tell me your name?”

The violinist seems to consider shaking the grip off or telling Wei Wuxian his name. Golden gaze seems to stay glued on the other’s hand for quite some time before exhaling softly. “Lan Zhan.”

“Nice to finally meet you, Lan Zhan. Though, I’ll miss calling you my mysterious violinist.” Wei Wuxian chuckles. His fingers slip from the other’s wrist, now tucking them into his inner coat pocket to take out a piece of paper and scribbling a series of numbers. “I really, really like playing with you. Maybe… maybe we could…?”

“Yes.” Lan Zhan is quick to answer before Wei Wuxian can even finish his sentence, as if he’s been waiting for him to ask all evening. “I would like to play with you, Wei Wuxian.”

“Wei Ying. Call me Wei Ying.” Handing him the piece of paper with his phone number, a broad smile on his face. “Maybe we can grab some coffee? You took my song and modified it into a duet, I’ll forgive you only if we can play it again.”

There’s the tiniest curve at the corner of Lan Zhan’s lips. Golden eyes melting like honey as they gaze at silver ones. “Mn” he agrees. After that, you’d see them playing anywhere they could: malls, airports, restaurants, out in the streets when it was warm enough. They’d perform the most beautiful duets anyone has ever heard.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan #wangxian #modern au #pianist!wwx #violinist!lwj #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #my writing

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leviosally · 2 months

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Play for me the Music of your Heart

Yeah...both these GIFs were needed. 😂

Chapter 28 of 30 is up, lads! We're nearly there 🥰

The backstage door opens, admitting his accompanist to a second wave of applause and cheers. Crowley turns, prepared with a ready smile and a gesture to welcome Tracy onto the stage with him.

Except that it isn’t Tracy.

Read it here.

#good omens #good omens fan fiction #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #good omens au #ineffable music nerds #violinist crowley #pianist aziraphale #levs writes

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citruscitrushope · 2 months

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@kerizaret your wish is my command >:3

So basically this au is an attempt to be somewhat close to the Torpe play as I can (unlike my other Dazzling au where it just uses the designs from the cards). WxS are an unnamed band that performs in a small vaguely British city, Rui as their leader. The Virtual Singers are shape-shifting beings that can appear in different forms to help out the different groups, such as secretly being the animals that helped Torpe have someone to listen to him play. The characters are all somewhat older than their canon counterparts (~22-23), purely so they can do things such as have jobs and live alone.

Tsukasa Torpe-Tenma is the "protagonist" of this story, the most recent addition to Rui's band after proving himself as a capable pianist. He's somewhat shy and uncertain, yet spirited, and he can be somewhat grumpy at times. Before joining the band, he played piano at the town's tavern often, and he still does from time to time. He has a few peculiar magical abilities, such as light manipulation and the ability to talk to animals, though he hasn't quite realized that these things are abnormal. He lives at the edge of town with his two younger siblings: Saki, a conductor on a mysterious magical railroad, and Toya, a singer and florist. Most people simply call him "Torpe" outside of his siblings and people who have known him since he was a child.

Rui "Danchou" Kamishiro is the leader of the band, who plays the flute and is the main one that gets them venues to perform at and writes the songs they play. He had initially given up performing after his music was seen as too "weird" but meeting Emu revitalized his dream to be a part of a band. He's kind and compassionate, the crossroads between a dreamer and a realist. He's somewhat teasing at times, but it's all in good fun to make others smile. He enjoys writing in his spare time as well. Most people call him Danchou (director/bandleader) outside of a few people who knew him before he took on that role.

Emu Otori is the co-founder of the band alongside Danchou, who plays various percussion instruments for them. She'd always wanted to make people happy with music, as her family owns a large corporation that manufactures instruments (think something like Yamaha but old). She came across Danchou performing when he thought no one was around and found herself drawn to him and his music, deciding that she wanted to start a band with him. She's cheerful and optimistic, always willing to try new things to make others happy. Despite her corporate background, she's creative and passionate, always willing to stand up for her dreams. She lives in a large house outside of town with her family, but occasionally stays with one of the others to stay closer to them.

Nene Kusanagi is an accordion player for the band, recruited by Danchou when Emu encouraged him to start a band with her. She used to perform often, but freezing up while with the first band she was in led her to give up performing. Danchou and Emu managed to encourage her to try again, thus she joined the band, marking the last edition until Torpe. She's quiet and somewhat sharp-tongued, but she greatly cares about others deep down, and is incredibly passionate about music. She also dabbles in writing her own music sometimes, but much less so than Danchou. She is Danchou's childhood friend, and one of the only people who calls him Rui.

The two Virtual Singers that the band, mainly Torpe, interact with are Hatsune Miku and "Fuuga Kaito", the bartenders of the tavern that also occasionally play music (Miku plays the harmonica, Kaito the trumpet). They are incredibly supportive of the band and their goals, and often end up helping them in subtle ways. Outside of the forms they take on when with the band, they also occasionally shapeshift into animals that help Torpe out from time to time, no matter how annoying they may seem to him.

All of the other units exist in this world as well, each represented by a different card set, I might make posts about them as well if people want them.

Leo/need: Live with Memories

MORE MORE JUMP!: Cast a Spell on You! + Re-tie Friendship

Vivid BAD SQUAD: The Vivid Old Tale (before joining them Toya used his colofes design)

Nightcord at 25:00: Insatiable Pale Color + Colofes

#also dantoru and maybe “polysho” happen here too lol #project sekai #project sekai au #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro #emu otori #nene kusanagi #hatsune miku #kaito #kaito vocaloid #mine ☆#a pianist named torpe #gonna tag all posts for this au with that

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bwaybby09 · 3 days

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Hmmm…was there ever an fic or au with Singer Jack Kelly x Pianist Davey Jacobs? Just asking for a friend.

#newsies #newsies musical #javid newsies #jack kelly #davey jacobs #javid #javey #singer jack kelly x pianist davey jacobs #jack kelly x david jacobs #newsies au

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pigeonwit · 9 months

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There’s a booming clang of keys that jolts Jack right out of his painted fury – a long streak of red cuts through the canvas, burning through the purple-dappled sky. Jack grits his teeth and turns, hackles raised, to where Davey’s sitting innocently at his piano, staring at the keys as if they were the most fascinating things in the world. Jack rolls his eyes – fucking Davey – and is about to make another stroke when a loud dun-DUN! booms right through him, his brush stabbing two clumsy red splotches into the canvas, one after the other.

“Oh, for-!” He whips around again – Davey’s fussing over his sheet music with exaggerated scrutiny, his brows furrowed deep and his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as if he were a newspaper cartoon, and Jack damn near stabs his brush into something again, just for the hell of it.

“D’you mind?” He snaps. Davey turns to him, blue eyes impossibly wide, his lips parted in a way that makes Jack’s stomach broil.

“Me?” He asks sweetly, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his damnably pink mouth. “I’ve no idea what you mean, Mister Kelly – I’m just rehearsing.”

Jack purses his lips and huffs through his nose, static burning in his arms with nowhere to go. Rehearsing. Like Davey needs to fucking rehearse, like Davey isn’t already perfect without ever having to try.

“Can you do it quietly?” He seethes through gritted teeth, because he’ll be damned if he proves stupid Davey right. Davey quirks an eyebrow at him, a smile toying at his lip, and humiliation burns thick in Jack’s stomach.

“Well, it’s music,” he drawls, slow, like Jack’s stupid, “so no.”

“Oh, right,” Jack scoffs. “Yeah, what was I thinkin’?”

“You think?” Davey fires right back at him without missing a beat, his head cocked in exaggerated surprise – the motion sends a mop of curls trembling over his brow, enough to make Jack twirl his wrist without him even noticing he’s doing it, leaving a perfect copy of the shape on his canvas, a soft curl written in a blend of blue and red into dappled purple-pink. Davey blinks, peering at the unfinished backdrop with that scrutinizing gaze, and Jack hurriedly smears his brush over that little violet curl, crushing it into a gouge of red paint.

“Is that for the show?”

“Nope, it’s for the mayor.” Jack sneers. “Whadda you think?”

Davey’s smile curdles – his brow knits together, making a tiny crease that Jack’s fingers itch to smooth away.

“I was just asking.”

“You stick to your shit, I’ll stick to mine.” Jack mutters.

#davey is trying SO HARD to flirt and he has no idea if hes doing it right #he just needs jack to know hes capable or he will DIE #meanwhile jack is just. Seething.#'dear diary. davey said my painting was good today. im going to kiss him. KILL HIM. FUCK.'#newsies #uksies #davey jacobs #jack kelly #david jacobs #javid #javey #pigeon scribbles #pianist davey fic #(ion said one nice thing about this au and i dived into my pile of wip scraps like 'LOOK GUYS LOOK AT THIS ONE')

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